


Learning to see you

by TheOncomingStorm



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Blind!Anders, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-04
Updated: 2014-12-04
Packaged: 2018-02-28 02:26:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2715527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOncomingStorm/pseuds/TheOncomingStorm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anders was born blind, and has never been able to see. Not that it matters, he cannot miss what he cannot see - copes and sees in his own way.<br/>After arguments on their differences, slowly arguments turn into conversations turning civil then closeness, Fenris and Anders developed a romantically inclined relationship. For the entire time Anders has been blind to what Fenris looks like however, only bare descriptions from their shared friends and a voice he was growing familiar with.</p><p>Finally Anders wants to see what Fenris looks like in his own way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Learning to see you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Breadcrumbz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Breadcrumbz/gifts).



> Suddenly, me and my friend got on the topic of blind!Anders for the first time getting to touch Fenris - who would be highly avoiding due to his touch issues - and learn who he's being talking to and growing feelings for. Me being me, I went and wrote one random snippet based on something we said. Then another... and another. And then this was a complete scene we'd talked about.  
> Established, innocent Fenders with patient Fenris and on the cusp of actually having a real relationship.  
> Un-beta'd, but at nearly 3am in the morning it seems to not be horrifically written so I probably will plan to recheck it after sleeping for glaring mistakes. I also don't write Anders normally, my friend is the Anders to my Fenris in writing and rp-ing, so I'm not fully certain he's in character. Or worse than Fenris may be.

To anyone else, the request would have been strange. But to Fenris, he merely stared before speaking acceptance to the request. Sitting down with Anders, facing him with legs crossed, and closing his eyes to relax into it knowing what was coming. Be patient like he always was with Anders.

Fingers rising and gently brushing at his cheeks first, thumbs resting at the corners of his mouth, made him jump slightly. Knowing it was coming - yet actually being touched in what could be intimate was different to what he could have prepared. Fenris had the blessing he could see Anders, take in everything, whereas Anders had nothing except short descriptions from their shared friends and a voice. Trying to imagine being blind was difficult even with his eyes shut. Relying on your hands to give you something visual to know who you’re talking to, where you are, or what anything generally looks like.

Having moved back slightly from the touch, uncertain still and mildly frowning, Fenris slowly moved back in to the touch. Trying to show he was okay, just unuse to this kind of this attention. Their previous touches he’d grown use to, especially from a mage, but this was far more intimate. It took a moment, certain Anders would draw back than begin properly, suddenly but slowly however they began to move. Tracing his cheeks to his jaw, neither pressing too much or too lightly yet clearly taking their time over his skin to touch and learn the shape there first, tracing under his jaw as thumbs brushed down to his chin to take in jaw and neck. Tilting head back slightly to make it easier.

Anders must have approved, as he followed more firmly now skin was taunt. Going to where his ears joined his face, to his chin. Barely touching the lyrium thankfully, as it stayed silent between them as Anders gently brushed down and back before following jaw again and over cheeks. Fenris only tilting head back into the touch to make it easier for Anders to learn what he looked like in his own way. It was easy to imagine what the mage must look like, biting his bottom lip or tongue sticking out slightly to take it all in and map however he managed to live who exactly he’d been talking to for months. This had to be exciting for him, even if it wasn’t showing with his touches, as for that time from being antagonistic to slowly simply talking and developing a closeness that had brought this request; he was finally learning more than a short description to who Fenris was. What he looked like to others who had the privilege of being able to see. Seeing who he was growing feelings for.

At least, this was exciting when the nerves were remove for Fenris. And worrying, as Anders said he enjoyed his company, enjoyed his voice and his wisdom, finding them attractive. But this was surely the test to if they’d go beyond been close and, as never Fenris thought he’d say it, bring them to a proper relationship. Even if Anders was blind, there had to be physical attraction involved to take it to the next level of intimacy beyond hands touching, shoulder brushing and odd fleeting kisses.

As fingers brushed the cheek bone, back and forth finally they traced somewhere new. Moving to brush over his nose, momentarily distracting Anders by its flatness and lack of human bridge at the top, before moving back down. Following to find his nostrils, which it was hard to not flare them out in a breath that made Anders briefly laugh, over the tip and down. Fenris thought Anders would return back up but instead something had to have taken his attention away from the weird elven nose as soon they moved down from the tip to the grove above his lips. Spreading and bringing more fingers to press over lips and begin exploring their shape.

Someone pressing at your lips was strange, and it tickled so slightly that for a moment Fenris wanted to part his lips. Pull back and escape it, yet he forced himself to stay. Keeping lips relaxed as his face had fallen, so every press caused a dip on his lip or pressing at corners moved them slightly. It wasn’t invasive as it could have felt, maybe because it was necessarily and Fenris wanted Anders to see him finally rather than simply hear. Falling into it, it was a surprise when Anders spoke and it’d clearly been a longer time than he’d realised as lips tingled from the attention that was still occurring.

“Could you… I mean, I’d like if you could smile.”

There had been so much attention at the corners, down and passive like his expression, even if the fingers found it important with the curve in his top lip, and had just continued to follow the length and dip to his lips for however long Fenris had felt relaxed to the motions. Even if Anders was trying to learn everything it seemed like he was paying more attention than at his jaw. “… why do you want me to smile?”

Talking with fingers pressed against his fingers was strange, but they didn’t move away as though learning that about him as well. Anders seemingly wanted to know everything, as after a small break where Fenris was tempted to open his eyes he got an almost timid response. “I want to learn what it looks like.”

Swallowing, lips pressed together slightly almost to frown themselves and Fenris couldn’t argue against that want. It was plain obvious why Anders would want him to smile now it was spoken aloud, just like why fingers wouldn’t have left when he spoke. To anyone else, it might have made them smile automatically at the idea, yet Fenris struggled for a moment to make even one corner rise. He still felt uneasy smiling, uncertain and it was foreign. Small and fleeting and it was what fell across his lips, barely touching his cheeks or eyes. It held however, allowing Anders to brush fingers across lips again – extending up as though searching for other affects, before they returned. Still searching, pressing and following the up turned corner before Anders let a small, quiet laugh out. “Properly.”

Urge to open his eyes was even stronger now, wanting to look at Anders with his requests since he’d yet to travel beyond his cheeks, not even his ears fully. Which was confusing, bringing up if Anders even knew elf ears were different. Something to address afterwards, as right now he’d been asked to smile properly. Fenris didn’t think he knew how. Parting his mouth, the faint smile gone now, he went to speak. Awkwardly leaving it open with fingers resting on lower lip, before closing and letting out a sigh.

Honestly, he tried to smile. Forced his lips upwards and felt them quiver as he tried to hold it, but it felt faked and still taking little effect to his face. Either Anders could feel the strain at holding, or had done this to another with similar problems, as fingers stopped exploring again and stilled. Letting smile drop, Fenris moved to gently kiss at fingers still resting at his lips as an apology. “I… am sorry. I do not really smile and it is difficult.”

“It doesn’t matter.” By the way it was spoken, it did. Making Fenris frown again wanting to speak but he was silenced by a single finger against his lip. “Honestly, I was hoping… but nobody ever described as you anything but brooding. Even just the small one is enough.”

Frown softened, and fingers were moving again. Following down to his chin, finally brushing the lyrium there. The fact it took so long surprised Fenris, as they felt obvious to him and everyone noticed them. Anders wasn’t using his eyes however. Overhearing Anders ask others in the past, they were described as tattoos and never in detail. A tattoo sounded like it was on his body, a single creation in ink, but these were carved tracks in his skin. Filled with molten lyrium while freshly cut, prominent and scarred over to be raised and cold in contrast to him. Alive and different to any tattoo he may have seen.

Anders had spent so long at his jaw however, at his cheeks and briefly his nose, yet never met the lyrium even when he’d brushed his chin. Or it hadn’t caught his attention. To a mage, it’d feel alive when he brushed over the lines surely. Feel a tug towards them just as Fenris felt a tug towards Anders’ magic when it was overbearingly obvious. Whatever the reason he hadn’t already drawn interest, he had now. Pads of index fingers tracing the lines bellow his lip, following the curved line around his chin – other fingers learning the shape and how it fit with his jaw – till brushing back up. Back and forth, till they realised it went lower. Following as lines became one beneath his chin, and gradually following it down.

Again Fenris had to tilt his head back, baring the lyrium for Anders as all fingers returned to brush over the design there. Brushing gently at the lyrium at the side of his neck also, and only stopping when it went beneath his tunic. Fenris was tense with the contact, eyes shut tightly but he didn’t speak up as he felt Anders shuffle where he sat. “They said you had tattoos, not…”

Letting out a small sigh, worried about this, Fenris spoke and felt the fingers move with each word as the continued to move over the centre line down his throat. “It would be more accurate to call them brandings. They are… you will find them all over my body, Anders.”

“This is lyrium though, I-I can feel it. You feel so warm to touch, warmer than others, yet these feel so cold and the skin around it… it’s pulling at my magic. Trapped under your skin, so thin I swear it feels like I’m touching it directly. I-I thought there was something strange when you’ve touched me, or we’ve being close but this isn’t what I thought. They’re not even tattoos, this is… Fenris, what happened? This feels more like scaring and-- How are you even _alive_?” Anders’ voice was distressed, higher and slightly rushed with words as he described and questioned it. There was no idea in knowing really what it must be like staring at someone you was growing to care for, not seeing something so external and clear damage to a past, only to discover it when trying to learn what they looked like. There was no avoiding it after all, and even now Anders didn’t know fully what it looked like, colour or extent, just that it was there and a unwelcomed part of Fenris.

Ignoring the question at the end, as there was no reply to that honestly, Fenris spoke plainly and tried to ignore the upset this discovery was gaining. Ignore the slight hurt that Anders would be put off by this despite not actually seeing them. “I told you was a slave.”

“But that doesn’t explain--!”

“ _Anders_! Please. I was a slave, this is what my Master wished to create. It is not pleasant, nor do I want them, but there is little choice now. Just know you will feel this all over my body, it is indeed lyrium that hurts, and you are correct. To someone who knows better, it would be more accurate to say it is scarring than tattoos. At least with how it healed over. Maybe later we can talk, but right now is not the time… you wished to feel what I looked like.”

There was a swallow, and this time Fenris had to open his eyes as fingers hovered close. Staring up to the roof, hole still there that Anders complained about, before finally they withdrew. Turning head back down to look at Anders, there was a frown. Eyes opened and unseeing, clouded over that left the barest hint of the amber that should be there instead of the cloudy colour. There was pain there however in the eyes, pained expression with the frown and Fenris thought he’d ruined this with his more snappish attitude. He didn’t like people bringing up his brands, even if it was Anders who couldn’t see them – hating how he had comfort from that to a degree, Anders wasn’t drawn to him for them or interested by them but by something as minimal as his voice. Yet slowly fingers returned to cup his face after tentatively brushing to find them with uncertainty. “I’m… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“One day, when you do not want to learn how _I_ look, you can… you can learn what _they_ look like. But not today.” Today Anders wanted to see who he was talking to, not explore the body. Eventually that could happen, if Anders wanted to take this that far knowing what he did now. Or was honestly that interested in what Fenris looked like completely.

There was a silence, Anders likely thinking it over, and maybe now he’d back off. Not want to continue as he’d have a clearer picture now on his past and how damaged he’d appear when you got close enough – not just defensive and skittish to touch as he’d appear daily and explained. But physically marred by slavery was different to mental affects. It was a surprise when hands remained, and finally Anders spoke again with voice less affected with his sadness.

“I presume that the lines on your hands then are…?”

“Yes.”

“Okay… I’m sorry.”

Fenris let out a hum, and after a moment shut his eyes, bringing hand up to tempt Anders into moving his hands again. Pressing palm against it, pushing to try and make them move. To tempt them to become familiar with him, as the subject was dropped. There was lyrium at his forehead, which would eventually be found when Anders undoubtedly grew interested in his hair, but for now it could fall silent and this time fingers brushed up to touch his eyes. Learning shape this time and Fenris after a moment, let out a sigh and relaxed back into the exploration.

Even more gently than they had being, fingers brushed over his lashes. Fanning them and then moving back to trace over his eyes, it was clear Anders had done this before with others as you’d expect this hurt. But it was more calming after the initial flinch expecting it to. Anders hadn’t even moved away, so clearly use to this and people’s reactions. Touch went across lid one finally time, tracing the sunken and slightly bruised sockets now until finally fingers moved to brush against his eyebrows.

Then back across against their growth.

An amused laugh came then, and Fenris frowned which only made it worse. “What is so amusing?” Spoken gruffly and lacking humour as he couldn’t see what would be amusing about his eyebrows.

“What colour are your eyebrows? I can’t imagine them being white also, and you lack wrinkles to be so old for them to be the same as your hair. But I… you’re likely going to hate me for this.” A small giggle came, making brows dip slightly. “It’s just… they feel so _thick_. I expected thinner ones, and Maker they get worse when you frown.”

It was like an amused child, as they weren’t thick nor was there anything truly wrong with. Especially not when frowning. “There is nothing wrong with my eyebrows.”

“I’m not saying there is, just they certainly suit someone who apparently frowns and grumps a lot. What’s the colour though?” It was spoken eagerly, easy to imagine the smile overtaking the mage’s face at what was happening. They’d only spoken on three things so far, and it was truly difficult to not feel annoyed slightly as they were random except for the lyrium.

With high reluctance, Fenris finally muttered out the colour. “… black.”

Laughter grew again, hands shaking a little now as they brushed again and it made Fenris let out an annoyed huff. This only seemed to add, as one thumb moved from one eyebrow to the other, a small snort coming as eyebrows deepened in their frown. Raising hand from his lap, Fenris shoved slightly at Anders blindly. Missing his mark in the first attempt – which didn’t go unnoticed by Anders – before finding his shoulder and pushing it slightly. Apparently Anders got the message as he moved fingers down his nose instead again, still laughing to himself nasally with whatever picture so far created in his mind.

Even though it had being explored already, fingers took more care this time on his nose. Specifically the bridge to learn its flatness, almost like trying to find where the clear dip should be as all humans possessed.

“Have you never seen an elf before?”

“I… not really, no. At least, I’ve never had the need to? I don’t do this often and only those I want to know who I’m talking to. Why? Are you saying all elf noses are like this? …are all eyebrows the same?” Fenris let out a low growl at the last question, as the words were spoken with tongue in cheek attitude, before straightening his back slightly.

At least Fenris had been right, Anders would have no idea about his ears then. He was fascinated by his nose alone, which only was straight from top to bottom. Nothing that uncommon really, even if some elves did possess a shallow dip. “Yes, most elves have flat noses. No, not all eyebrows are the same. I… let me move your hands for a moment.”

Awkwardly, as this could go two different directions with Anders’ amusement, Fenris moved to take the hands that remained where they were. Bringing each one either side of his face and placing them gently where his ears began. Feeling as the fingers relaxed to take in the shape and already there was a suck of breath because where the groves should be small and contained, they continued up and shall dips the further up you went. Carefully as they began to stroke, which made Fenris gasp at the contact and bite his bottom lip, he let go and allowed them to move along the ears. Taking in what could be classed as human before finally moving along the edges. Following, a nervous giggling coming, before finding the points.

Letting the touch be there was awkward, as it felt good to Fenris. Maybe too good as fingers had skimmed the edge and finally squeezed gently the tips. A small moan coming, as on both ears it was hard to escape even if it wasn’t welcomed. Or perhaps it was, as he could move away if he wished now Anders had felt them, and he was the one to initiate that touch.

Anders seemed to have noticed his reactions, as tentatively the tips were squeezed again, Fenris slumping slightly as fingers traced the edges again. A finger brushing the back that did make him squirm slightly and then apologise. That seemed to at least give Anders whatever he needed to know, as with a final press of thumb inside his ear to find the grooves, and a finger behind, they finally moved away that allowed Fenris to let go a breath he didn’t notice holding.

“Somebody has sensitive ears…” Words were low and sudden, containing something different than amusement making Fenris pause. Then swallow.

“ _That_ is an elf trait. As is the pointed ears. Now you know what elves look like a little better than shorter.” Amused hum came, or maybe it was too low to be fully amused, and Fenris was glad Anders couldn’t see for a moment. Though fingers on his heated cheeks might be able to feel the flush there over what the attention to his ears had actually caused.

Not being able to see made it harder to judge meanings to Fenris, so he hoped it was amused not something born of sexual amusement. Although he half hoped it was, as he could see Anders and while his appearance was unkempt due to not being able to see himself properly to cut his hair for example – uneven not only clearly cut with a dull blade – he _was_ attractive and Fenris couldn’t help feel interested if that was what Anders wanted from this in the end. His own problems be damned.

Anders didn’t seem keen to let him know which he meant, merely spreading his fingers so they brushed over the tops of his cheek, to his nose and side where he could just touch his ear. Clearly feeling wholly what he knew so far, before closing fingers to bring them up. Moving under hair and moving to forehead. Fingers brushed over lyrium again there, pausing, before a single finger moved in a circle between the three. Moving down to place them accurately before back up. It made Fenris tense and after a final circle, no words came except the feeling as finger moved away Anders was upset by the knowledge it was even there. As a healer, he’d probably be more concerned how he was still living or survived such treatment than aesthetics as others did.

By now only his hair remained, and all Anders knew of that was it was white. With touch between them stunted by Fenris’ confliction of allowing people to touch him and Anders’ lack of sight, they’d conversed about the texture of it before. Fenris brushing fingers through as he was asked if it was brittle and he’d simply shrugged that it felt like hair. Length was never explained except short, so the fringe being in his face probably was a surprise.

Hands moved to brush over it generically, finding the fringe and messing it so it sat more in his face, before pushing it back slightly to meet the rest of his hair. Finding the shortness and brushing fingers through slowly. Allowing fringe to fall back into his eyes, urge to shake his head there but leaving it till Anders had learnt. At one point as hands moved down they brushed his ears, following the length behind them and Fenris had to sit still then give Anders satisfaction as he not so accidentally brushed the backs again. Soon however, as it became less exploring after touching the nape of his neck to find how far down it went, soft words were spoken. “It’s soft…”

Letting out a huff of amusement, Fenris shrugged. “I did say it felt like hair.”

“I imagined it’d feel brittle or damaged because it was white but it feels… nice. How did it become white? If your eyebrows don’t match--”

“The lyrium. It changed after the lyrium.”

A small oh came, and fingers brushed through slightly differently than exploring. Closer to stroking, reassuring, and Fenris raised an eyebrow at the change. There was no need to become upset with the developments he was learning involving the lyrium. It was a thing that was part of Fenris now, yet he didn’t speak as hand carded through one last time before moving to again cup his cheeks.

A short kiss was pressed to his lips then, and hands had one final brush over everything – cheeks, nose, eyes and lips. Learning how everything fit together with a final larger touch to place things more than likely than learn texture and closer details before finally with a thank you, affectionate and loving, they withdrew.

As hands fell away from his face with that final brush, Fenris opened his eyes to see Anders had done the same. Smiling faintly, eyes containing something faint that was hard to place. Making Fenris look to try and work it out, before slowly – and embarrassed – Anders spoke as his cheeks turned pink though words were clear. “You are beautiful.”

Hearing that made Fenris cough, ducking head as face flushed. The conclusion to this wasn’t expected to be that. Especially as even if that’s how Anders saw, he still wasn’t seeing. It was his fingers painting a picture in reverse, taking from the world with touch to create in his mind rather than seeing and creating on paper. Never would Fenris consider himself beautiful, or handsome, as his brandings were ugly – down to their meanings – and his past worse so as it affected him. Only Anders could see this side he’d tried to master, patience and understanding than brash and angered. Finding words to reply was impossible, which Anders seemed to know without the need to see his flushing or mouth moving without forming words. He always seemed to know that about people.

Smile grew for a moment, before it shook slightly at thoughts Anders must be having and Fenris’ eyes darted across the mage’s face to take in the smile and eyes. Still wondering as much as Anders seemed to before again, words came only this time they started with a tone of sadness not with affection.

“I wish I could see more you, as you look beautiful. Isabela said you have darker skin – olive. Well, she actually said you glisten and you look stunning with white hair a contrast to your olive skin. And the tattoos did the same, white and standing out and accentuating you. I… can’t imagine that. But from what I’ve learn, you are so beautiful that I _wish_ I could see it properly rather than imagine exactly how you look.” Before, in a conversation, Anders had spoken how he was content with being blind. Having never seen anything, it was hard to miss it and he just learnt to see in a different way to others. Only saw what he found was important.

But seeing eyes water slightly as he spoke, voice tight at the edges, made Fenris frown with worry this time. Moving forward, placing a hand over Anders’ cheek in a mimic of what had been on his earlier and pressed one of their tender kisses to his lips. Hands came back up, moving to hold him close and Fenris was confused before Anders pressed into the kiss. Desperate that Fenris responded with no idea on how to, having never kissed anyone except short presses of lips. It was enough, as Anders let out a whimper turning into a sob, and Fenris brought other hand to wrap around Anders.

Breaking in the kiss to speak quietly, only for Anders and lips brushing against the mage’s that felt more comforting than lips had. “It does not matter.” Pressing another kiss as Anders went to whine again, clearly wanting to say something, to silence him before continuing. “What matters is you what you see, not others. You are perfect the way you are.”

“Thank you.”

Quiet and barely audio-able, sad but lovingly spoken with true meaning that it could have meant for allowing Anders to touch him this intimately or saying Anders was perfect regardless of being unable to see him, before Fenris again claimed his lips in a kiss. Trying to move his lips and copy Anders to a far sloppier version, but still lovingly to reassure Anders.

Fenris could feel a tear in the kiss finally, meeting his cheek where it spread quickly followed by another. Wanting to continue kissing as it seemed to reassure Anders, but at the same time he couldn’t ignore them that he had to draw back. Moving to wipe at the next tear before moving to lay them down. Pulling gently when Anders went to move to lay beside him, keeping him on top as they settled and wrapping arms around Anders to keep him safe. Anders was still crying as they were, one hand holding tightly to his leather tunic, fisting it, and shaking randomly with heavier breaths and sobs. There was no clear way to help, so Fenris just brushed hands across his back to try and comfort him. Wanting to help, almost needing to as something certainly had changed with this exploration tonight.

It was a shock when silence fell and a quick look showed Anders had fallen asleep rest atop of him. Uncomfortable as he was trapped, magic constantly tugging despite the sleeping mage, yet there was no urge to move him. For some reason not being able to see him had truly upset Anders, when nothing else he’d missed like the cats he enjoyed to pet and had no idea of their patterns, had ever seemed to upset him. He was another thing lost to his blindness and he’d learnt in his own way what Fenris looked like. And apparently he cared so much it upset him.

Shutting eyes tight, chest tight and stomach churning, it was hard to know what that meant for them. Just that something had changed and perhaps… perhaps now they could slowly move forward. Scared of doing so, but if learning briefly of his branding, learning what he looked like, hadn’t scared Anders, Fenris was unsure where other doubts could come except the truth on his past.


End file.
